


Fine

by justalittlegreen



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rape, Sexual Harassment, period appropriate sexual harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:00:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Summary: She would've been fine. What other choice did she have? Part of the Sunshine and Filth verse.





	Fine

The second time Pierce comes to her door without an invitation, she knows why he's there and doesn't want to talk about it. Just because he walked in on the general getting handsy with her was no reason to fly off the handle. Doesn't he know she's dealt with so much worse? And to _attack_ a two star? He's lucky he's not facing another court martial. What the hell was he thinking?

"Margaret." His voice is gentler than she expects. "I just want to see that you're okay." "I'm fine, Pierce. No thanks to you." Her voice is steady and cold. Good. There's a long pause. "Will you let me in to apologize, at least?" "It won't undo what you did. Why should I?" "Because I wasn't thinking and...and because I didn't mean to make more trouble for you."

She opens the door of the tent, eyebrow raised, fury growing. "You didn't _mean_  to make more trouble for me? Kicking a superior officer in the shins seemed like a useful idea at the time?"

"Come on, Margaret! He was - "

"I know _exactly_ what he was doing. I was there! And I've been there - more times than you could imagine. There, and worse. And believe me, when I imagined a rescue, it was _nothing_ like the childish, hairbrained, ill-thought-out, reckless _tantrum_ you threw across the lab!"

She's not sure exactly when he got inside and closed the door, but he's so shrunk into the corner it's like he's hardly in the room.

"Margaret. I'm so sorry. I just...I had no idea."

She laughs, bitterly. "Of course you didn't." She shakes her head. "I bet you've done the same thing to some cute little nurse. Nurses. I bet you've had your share of 'understandings' and 'persuasions,' haven't you?"

"Not like that!"

"Oh, _really_ " she charges back. "What makes you so different? What separates the lecherous attentions of Hawkeye Pierce from those of a General Stanton - or anyone!"

It lands exactly as she hopes it does. Pierce winces like she's hit him, no doubt running through a reel of his own pursuits. Good. Let him stew in it.

"Margaret, I swear, nothing I've ever done is like what I saw today. I _swear_. You were _screaming_. You were _fi_ _ghting_." His voice cracks on the last word, but he swallows and holds it together. She hates it when men show weakness.

"I was holding my own," she insists, turning her back to him and rearraging things on her desk that are already organized. "I would've been fine."

"He had six inches and ten times that many pounds on you." Hawkeye says flatly. "You weren't going anywhere."

"Then I would've survived!" Margaret snaps. "Sooner or later, there'd have been an opening and I'd have gotten away, and I would've been just fine."

"And how far would he have had to get to reach that opening?" he cries, voice stronger, more angry now. "Would it have been after he decided to get up, when he was finished with you?"

Margaret braces her hands on her desk and ducks her head.

"You say that like it's the worst thing."

"It is."

"No. No, Pierce, it is not _the worst thing_." Her voice shakes.

She hears shuffling behind her, the creaking of her cot. She imagines how he's sitting, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

"I'm afraid to ask."

"Then _don't_."

"I have to."

"No."

"You're terrified of rape, Margaret. It's your worst fear about being behind enemy lines."

_That doesn't mean I haven't survived it before._

_I can't stand the way you'd look at me._

"Right you are, Pierce," she says. "You guessed it. Will you leave me alone now?"

"Only if you're really all right."

"I am!" It comes out shrill, halfway to hysterical.

The cot shifts again. "Margaret."

"Shouldn't you be gone by now?"

"You remember the night we spent getting shelled by the Chinese with that spinal kid?"

"Does that have anything to do with anything?"

"You remember how we slept?"

The memory rises, dusts itself off. _Margaret, I'm going to lie down. And I'm taking you with me._ How she'd curled herself into the solidity of his frame. How her back stayed warm the whole night, for the few hours they were able to sleep. How he smelled, rank as old blood, viscera on his boots, and how comfortingly alive that stench was. How he hadn't taken an inch, though she'd have been amenable if he'd tried. How he held himself back all night. Not even a morning stiffness at her back.

Yes, she remembers. She knows what he's saying.

"You stank," she finally says.

She can hear him break into a grin behind her. "I did." His voice is lighter, but humble. "You, I remember, smelled implausibly like violets."

 

She goes to her vanity and sits down with her back still to him. "You have to understand that what you did wasn't helpful," she says, more gently. "You did make it worse."

"How?" It's not flippant or defensive. He really is that clueless.

She sighs. "Because suppose next time, he remembers? Suppose next time he takes more care to get me where no one will find me."

"You won't go."

"He's a _superior. officer._ "

"He's a would-be rapist!"

"And imagine what he would do to me if I didn't."

"Well, a court-martial to begin with, and possibly an execution thereafter."

She laughs again, dark. "You can believe that if you want, _Hawkeye_."

He swears softly into his hands. "I should know better than to expect justice from the army, right?"

"Bingo," she whispers, combing her fingers through her hair.

"Margaret, I am _so sorry._ "

"You were trying."

"I was competely ass-backwards and I -" he swallows again - "I put you in more danger. I'm so sorry."

Now, she can turn around. "If you want to be helpful, next time, give him a concussion and knock him out with something. It's easier if they think they passed out."

He nods, taking it in. "Margaret?"

"Pierce?"

"What would you have done?"

"You don't want to know."

"No, I'm pretty sure if you don't tell me, my imagination will fill in for you and I'll have nightmares for a week."

"I'd have let him do what he was planning to do without further resistance. To minimize my chances of getting hurt."

He brushes a tear away. "I'm sorry, I'm not crying, I swear. I'm just leaking horror thorugh my eyeballs."

"Once he was gone, I'd have grabbed - supplies - and headed for the showers."

He cocks his head, confused. "Supplies?"

"A hot water bottle and a length of tubing." She watches him put it together. "Don't make me spell it out."

He nods. "I understand." Then his eyes get bigger. He covers his mouth. "Oh, _Margaret_."

"Don't."

"You _have_  done this before."

"Shut up."

"I will. I just have to know - was. it. here." His words land fierce and sharp. She sizes him up, wonders how much of the truth he can handle. How much she can handle admitting.

"Some."

"Some? That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

"Okay. Okay. That's your perogative, I guess."

"Damn right. Now get out."

He gets to his feet and opens the door. Before he goes, he looks back one more time and says, "Margaret, I am so sorry. And if - if you decide you'd rather not spend this night alone, you know where to find me - _not like that_ " he adds hastily. "Like that night in O.R. /Only/ like that. You have my word. I couldn't - I don't think I could do anything else. Not tonight."

"Great, so I'm just a helpless, sullied victim to you now."

"You know that's not what I mean."

"Isn't it? Face it, you're going to spend the rest of the war trying to protect me instead of trying to flirt with me."

The vaguest glimpse of a smirk passes through his lips. "Or both?"

She takes a long breath. He's still in there. Whatever she's managed to do to his libido isn't enough to kill the spark.

Thank gd.


End file.
